


Kinktober 2020

by Ninhaoma



Series: Dressrosa [8]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Breeding, Clone Sex, Double Penetration, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Free Use, Freeuse, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Knifeplay, Library Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Sensory Deprivation, Somnophilia, Stockings, Temperature Play, Waxplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26854849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninhaoma/pseuds/Ninhaoma
Summary: "Let there be kinky smut" rang through the heavens.And so it was decreed, and thus Ninhaoma embarked on an epic journey of Kinktober.
Relationships: Donquixote Doflamingo/Violet
Series: Dressrosa [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751851
Comments: 8
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter index

Hello dear sailers of the DoViola ship!

Because I have no self-preservation instincts _whatsoever_ , I decided to try my hand at Kinktober this year. Hooray!

Here is a list of preliminary themes, decided by _le petit moi_. I do not promise any sort of regular updating as I'm not sure I'll be able to write each and every day due to Very Much To Do In Real Life at the moment, but this will (maybe) keep me accountable and motivate me to actually finish this. At some point.

The setup:

I'll write drabbles for the themes with minimal editing and proof-reading. (?) means I'm not sure about the theme and might change my mind. (x) means done and published. I'll try to remember to write specific kinks in the notes for each chapter – please remind me if I forget. I will also update tags and archive warnings accordingly.

Note: All this is based on *hrhm* extensive research *hrhm*, not any sort of expertise. Do your own digging if such things tickle your fancy – and be safe :)

Also, I live for comments. Let me know if there's something you especially like/think could have been done better/you want to see in future chapters!

Onwards!

_(Picture based on Robert McGinnis "Lady Violet")_

-_-_-

Day 1: Knifeplay (x)

Day 2: Sensory deprivation (x)

Day 3: Orgasm denial (x)

Day 4: Breathplay (x)

Day 5: DP + clone (x)

Day 6: Freeuse (in the library) (x)

Day 7: Breeding (x)

Day 8: Stockings (x)

Day 9: Face-sitting (x)

Day 10: Somnophilia (x)

Day 11: Temperature play (x)

Day 12: Dacryphilia

Day 13: Spanking

Day 14: Collaring

Day 15: Massage

Day 16: Formal wear

Day 17: Titfuck

Day 18: Humiliation (?)

Day 19: Mirror sex

Day 20: Non-/dubcon

Day 21: Exhibitionism/voyeurism

Day 22: Sadomachochism

Day 23: Shower

Day 24: Masturbation

Day 25: Bondage

Day 26: Burnplay (?)

Day 27: Public

Day 28: Lingerie

Day 29: Praise kink

Day 30: Toys

Day 31: (?)


	2. Day 1 – Knifeplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Knifeplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: knifeplay, femdom

Violet doesn’t need to check her blade. She knows it’s sharp: she hones them to perfection, each and every one of the weapons she carries. The metal catching the flickering glow of the candles, scattering light throughout the room, coating the walls.

When she turns it in her hands, gleaming and glowing in the warm light, she hears the hitch in his breath. She doesn’t turn around, keeping her back to him.

“You know why I am doing this.”

It’s a statement more than a question.

“Because you love me.”

She hears his breath hitch again as she finally turns around to face him.

Doflamingo is splayed out on the bed, leaning on his elbows, long legs dangling over the edge. His feathery coat is discarded on a nearby chair, a soft shirt framing his smooth abs. There are also the faint suggestion of past bruises peeking out, old scratches on his chest and an old scar on his leg.

She turns the blade over in her hands, flipping it from one hand to the other, catching it effortlessly. His eyes follow the movement: she can tell, even behind his glasses.

“No. I’m doing it because you almost got yourself killed. And you need to stop doing that.”

She notices how the muscles beside his mouth tighten, wanting to argue. But he knows she’s right and he doesn’t move. No matter that he’s one of the most powerful beings in the New World, even he has his limits and they had almost been reached. It had been an ambush and if he hadn’t been occupied with trying to grope her arse, he’d have noticed the trap. And if he would have noticed it, he wouldn’t have tried to protect her like some damsel in distress, taking a bullet that was aimed at her head.

“I am a grown woman and can take care of myself.” She flips the blade, watching it tumble almost lazily through the air in sparkling waves, before her eyes flick to him again. “And believe me, there are few things in this world that would bring me greater joy than your demise.” She catches the knife without looking.

“Yes,” he says, more breath than words.

She smiles, watching his throat bob as he swallows. “But that’ll be at _my_ hands. Not some half-arsed ambush in a port town of no consequence.”

Violet slides the knife up his leg. His still as a statue, the only thing moving the shallow breaths that expand his chest. The edge catches briefly on a fold before stilling at the edge of his trousers. She flips it over, continues over the hard planes of his stomach. She circles the bruises before nudging the shirt away to reveal fresh bandages.

“What should you do?”

“Apologise,” Doflamingo says.

Violet continues tracing the edge of the bandages before leaning closer, her breath ghosting over his ear as she applies a touch more pressure to the knife. Doflamingo growls as the knife presses into the soft skin beside the fresh injury, almost, but not quite, breaking skin.

“Why?”

“Because I underestimated you.”

“Correct.”

Violet straddles his thigh, leaning against his broad chest for support. Then the knife is in her other hand and Doflamingo’s breathing is uneven.

“Look at me.”

Doflamingo tilts his head up, exposing his neck with the movement, tendons standing out against his warm skin. She brings the blade up to his cheek before lowering it, tracing the contours of his face. The knife slides effortlessly over the expanse of skin and his throat, before stopping at the edge of his shirt. She uses the tip to nudge his shirt aside, exposing another fresh bruise.

“You really did a number, didn’t you?”

Another statement, not a question.

The knife nudges the shirt down and Violet presses an open-mouthed kiss to the bruise before bringing the knife down. She leans back, still straddling his thigh as she lets the tip of the knife circle the button on his trousers, before hooking it behind the small piece of wood and tugging slowly, watching Doflamingo’s expression. As the button flies of, she catalogues the microscopic motions of his face and the tightening of throat.

“That’s it,” she says approvingly as she nudges his trousers open with the knife. “Now, lean back.”

And he does without a word, large hands locking behind his head. The only sound is his heavy breathing and the soft sound of her blade working through the fabric of his trousers. He sucks in a breath as the chilly evening air hits his newly exposed skin and the cold edge of her blade presses against his groin.

He growls as she circles his cock with the flat of the blade, but he _shudders_ when she gives him a slight tap with the knife.

“Careful,” she murmurs, sliding the blade up his shaft and thoroughly enjoying herself as she sees his thighs tremble with the effort of keeping still. “If you move, you lose.” And with that, she drags the flat of the blade over his balls, in between his legs and skating over the perineum, before traveling back up, pressing into the frenulum.

“Fuck…” is the only word he lets lose as his cock twitches against her.

“Do you want to come with my knife against your cock?” Violet asks softly, scraping her nails over his abs as she presses the knife against the sensitive skin of his cock.

“Yes,” he groans, whole body shivering with the tension of keeping still.

“Will you ever do something like that again?” she asks, voice still soft, pressing a little harder on the knife and watching his skin redden.

“No,” he gasps, thighs trembling and abs clenching under her hand. She lets the knife travel a bit lover, to rest on the soft skin between cock and ball.

“Good.”

And she takes him in her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks as she feels his control break and he bucks into her mouth, coming with a strangled cry. She rides out the aftershocks before releasing him, swallowing as she rises and smooths down her dress. The knife has disappeared.

She stops by the door, glancing behind her. Doflamingo is laying boneless on the bed, breathing heavily, arms still locked behind his head.

“I’ll hold you to your promises. You can only die by my hand.”

“Anything for you,” he murmurs as he watches her leave.


	3. Day 2 – Sensory deprivation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: Sensory deprivation, very light bondage

In the beginning, there was darkness and silence.

Violet was standing where he left her: in the middle of his bedchamber, eyes covered by a scrap of silk, tightly secured, with earplugs of beeswax blocking the soft sounds of the evening around her.

A huff of air caresses her temple; he’s probably telling her all the things he’s going to do to her tonight. A featherlight touch of lips over her cheek makes her sway after the motion as he pulls away. She almost loses her balance in the dark world she exists in at the moment, but large hands on her hips help steady her. Then his foot is between her legs, nudging them apart. She braces against his arms not to fall over. She can feel the growing tightness between her legs start to tingle and spread, down her thighs and up her stomach. Every sensation is magnified by the lack of sight and sound.

And then she gasps, as he licks along her throat, teeth scraping over her jugular. He presses quick kisses to her jawline before attaching himself to the soft spot, just below her ear, and sucks, laves, and _bites_. A moan escapes her as she arches in his arms.

She feels a chuckle reverberate through his chest as his strong arms press her against him, fingers drawing small circles over her hipbones. In the darkness she can only focus on the heat behind her, his chest pressing into her back, contrasting with the chill in the air. His talented fingers, moving lower with each caress, leave fire in their wake.

She can feel her nipples harden, straining against the silk in her dressing gown. His long fingers languidly move up to the sash, and she can feel him untying the knot. Light touches slowly ease the robe open and her head lolls back, resting against his chest at the feeling of silk moving over her body.

With both sound and sight locked away, Violet is almost painfully aware of the other ones. Her skin feels tight, like her body tries to expand beyond its natural borders to sense more of the surroundings. There is a bruise forming on her throat, heat flooding and tingling along her skin where he marked her. Her cunt throbs in anticipation as he steps away from her and chilly evening air rushes in to fill the void.

She can feel a blush spread over her chest as the gown drops of her shoulders and glides over her breasts, before pooling at her elbows. Before long she feels strong arms scoop her up and she lets out a surprised yelp. She can feel his laugh in the rumbling of his chest as he carries her, she knows not where. He does put her down, almost tenderly, seating her on something soft – the bed, would be her guess.

Suddenly, his hand tangles in her long hair, guiding her to lay down on her back. The smooth bedclothes feel cool against her heated skin and she can almost feel every ridge and weave of the fabric as she adjusts her position. Her dressing gown is still tangled around her elbows, locking her arms beside her.

A soft nudge makes her spread her legs wider and she feels the mattress dip as he settles in between her legs. His warm hands grasp her feet, spreading them even further. As he kisses the inner arch of her foot, goosebumps break out making the tiny hairs along her legs and arms stand on end. She gasps and her hands claw the bedding when his mouth moves up, trailing liquid fire in its wake. His grip is still vice-like around her calves, spreading her legs further, stretching her wide open. Every sensation is magnified and amplified and just more all over as she can’t hear, can’t see, can’t move by the combined restrictions of his hands on her hips and her gown around her arms, still locked under her as she writhes on the bed. Then his mouth travels up, up, up, nipping the soft skin on her inner thighs, and she sees stars when he licks up her slit.

It’s almost like she’s not there, that this isn’t happening. They aren’t _them_ in this space. Here it’s only the darkness and the silence and the sensations and she isn’t Violet and he isn’t Doflamingo and everything just is. She’s only a bundle of nerve endings, sparking under his touch, and he is only a warm caress and a touch on her hip and a tongue on her clit and _oh_ , now he’s only a finger pressing into her heat and Violet whimpers as he sinks into her.

In the silence of her own head, every gasp and moan and whine ring a thousand times magnified. She can only guess what he’s saying as he’s playing her like a fiddle, his fingers pumping in her cunt – _aren’t you a dirty little whore, begging me for more with only two fingers in your pretty little cunt_ – but she doesn’t care as her whole world is centred around the digits in her, stretching her, a third making small circles around her clit, teasing her with the edge of orgasm looming so near, so near, so near. He knows exactly what he’s doing, he knows her triggers and tells and she can tell he’s enjoying himself as she lets out a loud moan at a particularly cleverly curled finger.

It almost feels like she’s floating in this dark world. Nothing exists expect the pleasure between her legs and his touches along her arms and legs.

“Fuck me,” she gasps as he nips at her nipple, sending electric shocks straight into her cunt. “I need your cock in me, just use me, make yourself feel good, I just need you…” Her arms are still locked beside her by her gown, but she grasps the bedclothes, arching her back to get any connection with him, with his skin, with his body.

She can feel a sudden huff of air as he chuckles against her breast; they might both be a bit surprised at her outburst. She doesn’t care as she’s floating in the safe darkness and silence where she can say anything and nothing will matter once she gets that tightness in her to break…

And then he covers her with his warmth and weight and she feels his cock stroke along her thigh before finding her entrance and when he sinks into her he’s doing it so slow, so slow, and she knows she’s begging and she can only hear the echoes of her voice in her head…

All she has to do is feel…

And then the world explodes in her head as her orgasm rips through her.


	4. Day 3 – Orgasm denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: waxplay, orgasm denial, bondage, femdom

Doflamingo hisses as the hot wax makes contact with the sensitive skin just above his collarbone, heat spreading through his skin from the point of impact. Above him, Violet gives a leisurely smile as she tilts the candle, letting the hot wax continue its path to the other side of his chest before dropping lower, circling a broad pectoral and venturing just on this side of a nipple.

He can feel his toes curl and tension curl in his legs and balls. His cock has been achingly hard for quite some time now and he’d do almost anything for the dark-haired woman, now occupied with letting measured droplets of wax fall dangerously close to the light hairs that curl around his cock, to get just a shiver closer to the end.

As she curls her hand around his thigh, nails biting into the sensitive flesh on the inside, just beside his taint, he moans as all feeling in his body centres in his groin and the delicious contrast of sharp nails and hot wax.

“Oh _fuck_ …” he groans, straining against the silken scraps that keep him tied to the bedposts.

They are, of course, more a symbolic token than a true restraint, but they keep him grounded in the here and now as Violet shifts and lets her talented fingers brush the underside of his cock at the same time as she lets the hot wax pool in his bellybutton and Doflamingo feels his cock _twitch_.

“Let me fuck you,” he grunts, the muscles in his abdomen almost painfully tight, pre-cum leaking from his cock.

At that, Violet leans back, taking the sensations with her and it’s all he can do no to whine at the loss.

“I’m not sure,” she says, regarding him through hooded eyes. “Have you earned it?”

His bones are screaming, begging even, insisting that he has earned it, of course he should be awarded. But then the heat of the candle is there again, so tantalisingly close to the juncture of hip and leg and the groan that teases out of him is almost broken. “No, I haven’t.”

Violet smiles that leisurely smile again, rewarding him with a trickle of hot wax and his cock is trembling again, begging for attention.

“That’s all right. We’ll get there. But you can wait a bit more, can’t you?” she murmurs, caressing him with a touch that’s so light it could almost be his imagination if it wasn’t followed by a shooting heat where the hot wax drips on his stomach.

He moans and nods, head falling back on the pillows as she grabs his cock and starts stroking it.

Violet had always admired beautiful things, be they magnificent artworks or delightfully presented foods or a captivating story, written down with graceful loops and pencil strokes. And there was something beautiful about the man below her now. The wax had formed mesmerising patterns, drawing the unwary spectator’s attention to the most striking parts of his anatomy, from his broad chest to his well-defined stomach, and the light trail of hair leading to the juncture of his legs.

As she feels his hips jerking under her, she slows her pace a smidgeon, raising an eyebrow. His usual smile is nowhere to be seen, the tension in him showing in the tight lines of his neck and the intense focus of his gaze. He can’t hold that for long, however, as a particularly languid movement of her wrist makes his eyes flutter close.

She’ll have him begging in earnest before the night is over.


	5. Day 4 – Breathplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: breathplay, light Dom/sub

He wound the silk tighter between his fingers. She felt it cut into the tender flesh of her throat, restricting her airflow as he slid into her, her hands scrambling for purchase on the soft sheets surrounding them.

He sometimes used his hands, grasping her throat tightly, creating a caleidoscope of black and white in her head. Sometimes fucked her mouth so hard she couldn’t breathe, his cock down her throat.

And sometimes he wrapped the finest silks around her, caging her in their sheen and feel.

“I want to hear you.” He tightens his grip on the silk. “I want you to enjoy this and I know that you’ll enjoy it only when you give up. I promise–” he thrusts into her and there’s no _air_ and his grip is holding her pressed down in the mattress “– that you’ll like it.”

Stars are bursting in front of her eyes, creating disappearing galaxies. Her hands scrabble over his back, skating over broad shoulders and they are leaving long, red scratches in their wake and she’s _dying_ and it feels so good as she’s floating away and he keeps her in place, fucking into her and the galaxies are narrowing into a pinpoint of light, the world fading away…

“Violet.” She hears him from so far away, her lungs screaming for air. “Come for me. Do it. Now.”

And her world is shattered as her body convulses, muscles contracting and a blinding current rushing through her and she doesn’t even notice his hand is gone from the silk wrapped around her throat and she can breathe breathe _breathe_ again–

But Doflamingo doesn’t let up, fucking Violet relentlessly through her orgasm. His hands are now wrapped around her hips, forcing her to slam back into his hips with every thrust and she’s gasping for air as every thrust forces it out of her again and the tension in her cunt is just building and building and there are still black dots dancing in her eyes and she claws at his chest, just to get some leverage and then he hits her just right and she’s falling over and over and over again.

“Fufufufu,” he laughs in her ear as she enters the world of the living again. “Told you you’d like it.”

And then she’s empty, his reassuring weight gone.

But then he’s laying back and motioning for her to get between his legs and she knows what he wants.

“Please,” she gasps, throat still sore. “Please let me suck your cock.” He runs a hand through her sweat-drenched hair and she leans into his touch as he caresses her cheek. “Please make me choke on your cock and swallow your cum,” she continues as his grip tightens in her hair.

She isn’t lying, either. All she wants, right now, right here, is to feel Doflamingo’s cock ram down her throat.

And she feels _good_ when he gives her a small half-smile, just the side of his mouth lifting and it's not the full-blown grin he usually wears like a mask and his thumb runs over her parted lips and everything is all right.

Then, he’s guiding himself into her mouth, one hand keeping her head in place as she braces herself on his thighs. He doesn’t give her a chance to adjust to his girth before pushing all the way in. She has to supress a gag as the tip of his cock slides down her throat and then he’s _fucking_ her face, relentlessly showing down her throat and she’s gasping for air, _again_ , tears running down her face as he’s using her like a doll. He’s murmuring soft nonsense as her nose is buried in the soft hairs at the base of his cock, gasps of “Such a perfect sight, you’re so good to me, letting me use your mouth like this, oh _fuck_ Violet, I’d pay a king’s ransom to have you this way _every day,_ oh fuck fuck _fuck_ –“ and her lungs are on fire as his dick is pistoning down her throat, cutting of her air supply and the black dots and galaxies are back in her field of vision and she can feel herself getting wetter and wetter and all she can do is to brace herself on his legs as his hands keep her head in place and his hips are thrusting his cock even further down her throat and then she feels the tension as he’s coming, shooting down her throat and he’s not moving and all she can do is swallow as he rides his orgasm out, his hands still clutching her head.

And then his grip eases and she looks up at him, tears still running and she feels simultaneously _wrecked_ and like she’s floating on clouds as the darkness at the edges of her consciousness drifts away like mist in the morning breeze. And Doflamingo looks at her like she’s the centre of the world at the moment. His broad chest is heaving as he comes down from his high and there’s wonder in his eyes. His long fingers travel down the side of her head and she leans into his touch again, small smile playing on her lips mirroring his. She swallows and oh, her throat is going to _hurt_.

She used to be a proud princess, a future ruler of her people. And in this moment, she feels _right_ , on her knees in front of him. She doesn’t know if it’s the act of submitting or submitting to _him_ that makes her feel right and that really doesn’t matter either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to convey a sort of stream of consciousness: she's asphyxiating and so (I imagine) everything would be one jumbled mess of continuous events. Did I succeed?


	6. Day 5 – DP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink: Double penetration, clone sex, anal

As he pounded into her relentlessly, Violet couldn’t help but moan, pressing her face into the soft linen of the bed. She couldn’t even feel her arms anymore and her back was numb from the amount of time she had been in this position, being deliciously full and used.

“Look at me.”

She lifted her head with difficulty, dropping straight back down with another moan as the man behind her hit an especially tender spot, coiling the wire in her tighter and tighter. She had orgasmed countless times already, but there was no sign of stopping, not today.

“Viola.”

She looked up with a great amount of effort, bracing herself on her arms.

Doflamingo was sitting in his chair, languidly stroking himself as he watched the scene before him. The firelight glinted off his sunglasses, his feathered coat abandoned on a chair behind him. He sat, spread legged, his cock out of his trousers, nestled in a thatch of golden curls. His dick stood proud and erect, veins bulging as his hand continued its never-ending journey; up and down, up and down.

“You really–“ she gasped as the man behind her hit a particularly tender spot “–have the weirdest kinks.”

“Fufufu,” he laughed, never stopping his movement. There was a drop of pre-cum coating the top of his impressive cock. If Violet was to judge, and oh how well she knew him and his tells by now, he was not far from coming himself. “Can you blame me for enjoying the view? You make such a lovely tableau. And I look quite dashing, if I say so myself.”

“But using your own clone to–“ her eyes rolled back as the man behind her, identical to the one sitting in front of her, grabbed her hips and increased his pace, “–fuck me seems a bit excessive. Oh _fuck yes, just there…_ ” Her head dropped again as she couldn’t keep herself up anymore, breasts pressing into the mattress. A large hand crept down her spine and found its anchorage at the base of her neck, pressing her deeper into the silken fabric. The clone behind her was now fucking her hard, his balls slapping against her clit with each movement.

It was a surreal feeling, to be fucked just the way she liked, by the man who had done so countless times before, but also seeing the man himself sitting in front of her. Her body screamed for more, for deeper thrusts and _more more more_ , while her brain tried to make sense of the whole situation. Although that particular part was quickly turning to mush and even greater clamours of _more more more_ as he drove her over the edge once more and her world imploded.

She came to as a strong hand wrapped around her chin, forcing her to look up.

“You’ll be a good girl today, won’t you?” Doflamingo purred, his thumb stroking her plump bottom lip. Violet moaned as the man behind her continued with his relentless pace, fingers stroking her arse.

The benefits of a string clone: he couldn’t come and didn’t get tired.

Violet moaned, her tongue swiping at his thumb. She barely noticed the languid smile that spread over his features as she sucked his finger into her mouth.

“Fufufu,” the deep laugh filled her world. “If you’re that eager, I have something else for you…”

Without warning he withdrew his finger and then she had the thick end of his cock pressing against her lips. She didn’t even think as her mouth opened, taking him in her mouth.

She felt deliciously full as his clone ravaged her from behind, the real Doflamingo fucking her mouth, his thick cock sliding down her throat. The intense evening had already loosened her gag reflex enough for her to be able to take him almost to the hilt.

She felt the clone stroke her other hole with his strong fingers and she _moaned_ , causing the shichibukai to shudder, the movement of her muscles rippling along his cock.

“Is this the only reason you worked to awaken your powers?” she panted as he withdrew from her mouth.

“Not the only, but it was a huge motivator,” he answered as his clone slowly pushed a finger into her arse, making her head fall and a wrecked gasp escape her. Strong hands lifted her up, careful not to jostle the fingers slowly pumping into her, stretching her out.

Then he was kissing her from the front, fingers tangled in her hair and one strong arm keeping her pressed against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she sank into the heat of his mouth as another hand snaked down between her legs to find the small nub hidden in her curls. The fourth hand in the group added another digit to stretch her even wider and another mouth was dropping careless kisses down her spine…

And she screamed into his mouth as he pushed into her cunt from the front and his cloned pressed into her still tight arse from the back, filling her _oh_ , so deliciously. She was never so full as she was with him and right now, she was stretched to her limits.

And then they _moved_ and Violet shattered.

He slid into her cunt, his hipbone hitting the bundle of nerves at the apex of her slit, and his clone fucked her from behind, his cock thrusting into her arse. The tension, an almost living thing, filling the room, was building building _building_ in tandem with the relentless pace Doflamingo set.

And when he grabbed her arse from behind, while kissing her roughly, his tongue plundering her mouth, she came harder than she had ever done before.

She knew he’d never allow anyone else to do this with her. He was too much of a jealous wanker for that; he didn’t like to share.

But there were some benefits of having a lover with awakened Devil Fruit powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise I'm going against canon here (Viola says "I've never seen him do that before!" In ep.680 of the anime) but I claim artistic freedom.


	7. Day 6 – Free use

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink: Free use  
> (Also: is library sex a kink? Well, there's library sex.)

A heavy tolling started to clangour in the air, startling Violet from her perch. A quick look out the open windows showed the sun well on its way beyond the horizon, painting the sea a with glittering swathes of gold and burning embers.

Violet sighed, turning her head to work out the stiffness that resulted from too many hours of being bent over a book. Best to stop now, when there was still light enough to put the texts back in their proper places. She knew she should take more frequent breaks, but it was so easy to get lost in the pages, teasing out connections between distant kingdoms from the newspaper or books gathered from near and far. Or, on the rare occasion she ventured into the shelves filled with fiction, getting caught in the adventure and happily ever after of the spunky heroines who always overcame their demons.

Well, it was called ‘fiction’ for a reason. She sighed again, rising to put the annual reports from the World Economy News Paper back in their place. She was to leave for her next mission the following morning and needed all preparation she could get.

The soft evening chirrups of the garden birds echoed around the darkening caverns of the palace library, the noise finding its way in through the still open windows, as she made her way back towards the shelves housing newspapers and other current affairs. She would have to remember to close them, it wouldn’t do to leave them open during the night.

The birdsong was accompanied by other noises in order to fill the vast space; the distant laugh of playing children, the soft rustle of the evening breeze, the sharp cracks of heels hitting stones in a relentless staccato.

A sigh escaped her, adding to the kaleidoscope of sound filling the library, as she regarded the high shelves. Not a short woman, by any measure, she would probably still need to get the footstool to get them to their rightful place if she was to do this by herself.

She didn’t even jump when she felt a large hand wrap around her midriff, pressing her against hard planes of muscle, a large hand grabbing the documents she was carrying and depositing them high above her.

So much for doing it herself.

There was a hole in the pattern of sound now. No more heels hitting stone to structure the twilight harmony. Instead, there was deep breaths in her ear and the rustle of a feather coat.

And then the whisper of her dress being lifted and the silken hiss of her hands grabbing hold of the shelf.

And then the hushed sighs escaping her, punctuated by the sharp pants of the man ploughing into her, the sounds of their coupling overtaking the medley of sounds in the library.

There was nothing to do when either decided they wanted the other. No matter where they were, they were free to claim each other. It didn’t matter if the other one wasn’t in the mood – they usually came round quick enough. She had reduced him to a groaning and panting mess with his officers in the next room, left in the middle of a meeting, while he had her moaning and whimpering in dark nooks during celebrations where anyone could see if they looked close enough.

Violet could feel the pleasure building as she leapt higher, higher, higher, a desperate desire filling her every vein. And when his talented fingers found their way to her clit and that perfect rhythm that would have brought her to her knees if she wasn’t held up by his strong arm still around her midriff, a roaring clamour filled her and she shattered into a scream.

His rhythmical pounding staggered as he came with a hiss, his grip tightening around her.

And then the silence of the library was broken by a sharp heel on stone as he withdrew, the soft whisper of her dress following in its wake.

“Dinner’s ready in fifteen,” was his only murmur, his breath rustling over her ear.

And the sound of the sharp cracks of heels hitting stones in a relentless staccato once more filled the air as he left her, still facing the shelves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to THENIGHT who inspired me to write this chapter with their delightful comment on the last chapter!


	8. Day 7 – Breeding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink: breeding

Violet would make a terrific mother.

She has a way with both Dellinger’s childish antics and takes a motherly role with Baby Five, consoling her when her love life goes awry.

I can’t help but think of Violet as a mother as I stare at the sight of my cock sinking into her soft depths. Every stroke is pure bliss, her heat wrapped around me as her moans caress my ears. When I bottom out, she makes a small mewling noise.

I imagine my sperm flooding her womb, the swollen curve of her pregnant stomach and tender breasts. I imagine a small child, nestled in the crook of her arm, a child with blond hair and lovely dark eyes.

I grip her hips as I increase the pace, her soft flesh yielding under my hands. I fight the urge to flip her over and force her to look at me while I take her, my seed filling her aching womb. I have never been this turned on. And I have never felt this way about a woman before. I can’t help angling my hips, hitting that spot inside her that makes her writhe and shudder beneath me.

“Please,” she gasps, tightening her grip on the sheets, her back glistening with sweat as her spine curves, breasts pressed into the mattress. Lifting her hips, I increase my pace, stroking the flame in my loins as my cock sinks into her depths.

The noises Violet make are pure agony and bliss to me, the wet little noises of my cock sinking into her cunt mixing with her pants and gasps, broken pleading falling from her plump lips without her even noticing. “Harder, please–“

I reach around her, my fingers finding her clit. A shiver racks through her body as the words dissolve into wordless pleading, her cunt tightening around me.

Violet lifts her head, looking at something off to the side. I had totally forgotten about the mirror hanging on the wall and what I see in it nearly pushes me over the edge.

The dark-haired woman, trapped in my arms, glistening with sweat and the strumming tension of nearly tumbling over her peak. Her cheeks are flushed a deep scarlet and her eyes are wild and unguarded. Her lips are swollen and parted as she pants, her breasts moving with the motion. Her eyes flutter shut as I continue thrusting into her, her arse flush with my hips, hands gripping her hips tightly.

I know she won’t let it happen, she won’t carry my child, but as my fingers stroke Violet to her completion in tandem with the thrust of my cock, watching her fall apart in the mirror before me, I can’t help but imagine another scenario.

Me, fucking her exactly like this, but with her belly heavy with my child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I just… got stuck on the theme and ran away to hide for a while.


	9. Day 8 – Stockings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink: stockings

Doflamingo’s hair was like the finest spun gold between Violet’s fingers as she let them card through it. With nary an effort she let her hand drift downwards, a feather-light caress over his brow before her thumb lifted his head to meet her gaze. She cocked her head as she regarded the man in front of her.

He was a sight to be seen, the current king.

Kneeling on the floor, seated between Violet’s open legs, not clad in much anything but a slight flush of colour on his high cheeks. His hands were uncharacteristically demure, placed in his lap with one hand wrapping the other, the tightness visible in the sinews of the clenched fist the only outward sign of any possible tension the man felt.

Violet wondered if it came down to power for Doflamingo. There was no other reasonable explanation for the warlord’s actions, his explosive presence both overpowering her when she let herself go under his touch, but also reined in tightly when he deferred to her, his energy almost _purring_ like one of the large cats sometimes exhibited in the Colosseum.

It was an almost otherworldly feeling, an almost palpable presence of something eerie and curious, to have Doflamingo a little undone in front of her.

Goosebumps had already formed on her exposed skin, her nipples pebbling in the cool air. Her dressing gown was only lightly cinched at her waist, leaving little to the imagination and offering so much more for the viewer’s pleasure. Violet shifted and leaned back in her seat, crossing one long leg over the other, letting her dressing gown settle in soft creases and smooth valleys around her. The movement against her sensitive skin was almost torturous. She couldn’t wait to be out of her garments.

But to lose patience is to lose the battle.

Doflamingo always knew where he was and why it was so. The places were scarce and few between where he did not want to be and still was made to go; mostly he followed his own whims.

And in this precise moment he wanted to be here. Kneeling in front of Violet, her fingers laced in her lap and her mouth neutral, eyes dispassionate. Her long dark hair coiling around her shoulders like a living thing.

Desire and vexation warred in him, tightening his spine and making his nails bite into his palm, fist clenching harder. Willingly worshiping the woman in front of him but still subservient, being made to kneel in front of her splendour and magnificence, her lustre brighter than any jewel he could offer her.

The line of her leg was hypnotic and Doflamingo couldn’t help his gaze from following the curve of her calf, the hollows and slopes of bone and muscle, over the top ridge of her knee, where the silk of her stockings met the heavier silk of her dressing gown, disappearing into sweet darkness.

And when she uncrossed her legs, Doflamingo _twitched_.

It was imperceptible, but Violet knew his tells and signs. A dreamy smile curled over her mouth as she stretched out her leg, nearly brushing against Doflamingo’s head when she extended it past him, allowing him a most wanton view. But his focus was locked on the dark material covering her outstretched leg, the shimmering fabric following her smallest movement.

“Do you want to touch me, Doffy?” she asked, fingers still laced in her lap, as she lowered her leg to just barely rest on the broad shoulder.

“Yes,” he rasped, the tension from his clenched hands now visible in the line of his shoulders and his neck.

Violet merely looked at him, waiting in silence.

It didn’t take long.

“Please, Violet, can I touch you?”

“You may.”

With that, Doflamingo’s eyes fluttered shut. There was no hesitation as he leaned to the side, nuzzling his cheek against Violet’s leg, her stocking the only barrier between them. A kiss to her ankle was followed by a dry tongue dragging up her foot. A slow smirk lifted his mouth as he pressed a kiss against the bottom of her foot, causing the dainty foot to arch at the action and a small gasp to escape.

Having someone like Doflamingo be so surprisingly gentle and present, indulging her with the light cadence of soft touches and lenient tenderness was its own kind of magic, its own aphrodisiac.

Add in the reverence and devotion, obvious admiration and adoration that extended to the things she touched, the fabrics that clothed her and the rooms she enjoyed… desire pooled in Violet’s core as Doflamingo’s hand caressed the underside of her calf as he pressed light kisses to the side of her leg, not having moved an inch from his position. His other hand stroked the inside of her other knee, holding her legs open enough for him to enjoy the sight of her stocking-clad legs but not too much to cause her any discomfort.

He knew what he looked like. These moments were never only about giving up power, or the sensation of silk stockings against skin. They were as much about show and perception and expectations and anticipation.

And almost without thought, Violet’s fingers started to slowly undo the belt holding her dressing gown together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some stocking-clad lemony indulgence this last February Monday, my darlings.


	10. Day 9 – face-sitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink: face-sitting

If he spent the rest of his life between her legs, he would die a happy man. There were few things as intoxicating as the taste of her; the warmth of her legs seeping into his shoulders where she knelt over him, her long dark hair draped over the curve of her back like a curtain of darkness.

Her skin was smooth under his hands, her hips caught in his grasp and held in place as he teased her with small licks, his nose buried in her folds. Sometimes he enjoyed torturing her with only his tongue, making her come undone with simply his oral skills. Sometimes he helped with talented fingers and murmured words of adoration but always, always buried between her legs, beneath her sweet cunt.

If he could have her like this every day, he would. He would supplicant himself in front of her and fall to his knees if only she’d spread those lovely legs. He would lay her down on the tabletop and have his feast, he would worship her in his bed and make her come to the rhythm of his native tongue.

When the time came for his last meal, which he was certain would arrive sooner rather than later, Doflamingo wanted it to be Violet’s quim.


	11. Day 10 – somnophilia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink: somnophilia
> 
> Can be interpreted as dubcon; she's asleep.

She is beautiful in the night.

The moonlight paints her in a soft, silvery sheen, casting dark shadows in the valleys and highlighting the rises of her body. He lets his hand travel gently along the lines, dipping into the gorges and climbing the peaks, his feather-soft touch not causing her to wake. They had been doing… whatever it was they did for too long, exhausting and draining, and now she doesn’t stir at the easy night-time journey of his hands, voyaging over achingly familiar paths. Her even breaths make the shadows dance and flicker, flowing from hilltop to valley floor, dipping into crevasses and illuminating new plains of skin.

Everything is monochromatic in the night. Her dark hair tinted an inky black as it spills over the pillows, her dark lashes casting sharp shadows over her cheeks, her skin almost shining in its brightness. He pauses his movement, admiring the contrast, accentuated by the night. His tan skin is dappled in shades of grey in the moonlight while hers shine in hues of quicksilver.

She murmurs and shifts in her sleep, now laying on her back.

He props himself up on one elbow, letting his hand continue its mindless travels. Caressing the side of her thigh, dipping down in the juncture between where leg and stomach meet, before circling her navel. He lays his hand flat on her stomach for a moment, just to marvel at how he covers her almost entirely. So poised and excluding an aura larger than life when awake, she’s smaller when asleep. Well, compared to him, most people are small. But she… she’s even smaller when she lets go of the armour she wraps around herself.

Oh yes, he’s noticed. Noticed how she has a broken fraction of a second in the morning, when the last vestiges of sleep are skittering away and there’s a softness in her eyes that leaves almost as soon as she blinks for the first time. How she leaves the castle at odd hours with a basket covered with oilcloth, returning with a much lighter load. How her laugh changes depending on who she’s talking with, how the edge of her smile sharpens with Diamante and Monet only to soften when Dellinger and Baby 5 approach. How she, for some inexplicable reason, takes the time to console the latter when her suitors end up as a footnote in the papers next day and the younger woman picks up the pieces of her heart and vows vengeance and retribution.

But now there is nothing of that visible. Now she’s just herself, shining silver and inky black, laying in the darkened sheets with her dark hair haloing her peaceful face.

He wonders what it would take for her to have the same countenance in the daytime. He suspects it would take something he can’t give her ­– like his absence. A half-smile flits over his face as his fingers card through her hair, rearranging the tresses in intricate and haphazard patterns. That simply won’t happen.

He’ll always be there.

He’ll just have to treasure these moments, when she’s herself in his bed.

His hand continues its travels, light fingers brushing over her brow, down her nose, lingering for a moment on her parted lips, feeling the soft exhales. He continues over her cheek, down her throat, where he stops for a moment, letting his grip tighten around the slender column. She frowns in her sleep as her breath stutters for a second at the restrictive sensation but evens out as he continues downward. A silken caress down her arm makes her murmur in her sleep, shifting. He drags his fingers up again, to brush his fingers over her breast.

Her breath falters as her nipples, already pebbled in the night air, react to his touch. The half-smile flits over his countenance once again as he repeats the motion, enjoying the low whimper as she pushes her chest into his large hand. Her own arms have moved to cover her face, fingers tangled in her hair.

He teases her nipples with feather-light touches, other hand traveling down her sternum. She shifts, mumbling in sleep, spreading her legs at the smallest of nudges. He knows he doesn’t have long, but he also knows her and that she doesn’t need much at this point. She’s rising from the depths of sleep, her breaths shallower and small muscles moving in her beautiful face.

“Don’t stop,” she mumbles, spreading her legs wider as her fingers rise to tangle in his moon-whitened hair. His grip tightens around the top of her thighs as he continues his teasing, nipping the soft skin where her legs end and something else starts.

Her eyes are soft, half-lidded as she returns from the realm of dreams. He can feel the familiar tightness start to coil in the lines of her stomach and the way her thighs spread a bit further. He focuses his attentions on her clit, fingers curling in her leisurely, keeping up the repetitive pace he knows will bring her to the edge and over it.

She comes with a gasp and a tightening of fingers in his hair.

He knows she’s awake when he looks up and her eyes are blank, although an indolent smile pulls at her full mouth. She’s breath-taking, lying sated in his bed, even though he knows she’s donned her armour, impenetrable behind her shield.

“Thanks,” she smiles sleepily, rising up on an elbow, her fingers travelling down the hard planes of his stomach. Before she reaches her goal, he takes her hand and lays it on his chest as he drags them down into bed again.

No, tonight he was fine without pleasure for himself.

“Let’s go to sleep,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, feeling the puzzlement in the lines of her body melting away, giving in to the demands of Somnus and Luna.

Tonight he got to have her soft eyes for himself for a while.


	12. Day 11 – temperature play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kink: temperature play

Violet watched, entranced as the snow floated down through the air, settling like a sheer shroud on her. The flakes twirled in the wake of her arm as she swept it through the air in a wide arch.

“Come on,” Doflamingo said, breaking her enchantment. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll be along in a second,” Violet answered absentmindedly, watching how the snow melted on her bare skin.

She could feel the tension rolling of Doflamingo like the storm clouds gathering overhead, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. Not when she saw snow for the first time in her life and the world was white and soft and quiet and the cold permeated her very being, numbing everything. So she stayed out, watching the snow spin and dance around her.

When she got inside, her fingers were tingling and a blotchy shade of red. She refused the blanket offered by a servant stood by the door, opting to feel the effects of the winter island for as long as possible.

She knew exactly what Doflamingo had against winter islands and snow and why they so seldom ventured to them. So when she had the possibility, she would enjoy every second of it. No matter that he'd probably take it out on her later, one way or another.

The fire was roaring in the bedroom appointed to her. She was unsurprised to see a large figure folded into the armchair closest to the fire, stooped and leaning on his elbows, watching the dancing flames.

Her feet were chilled to the bone by now, thin slippers soaked through by the melting snow that had attached itself to them. She struggled to get her ruined shoes off her feet, a faint smile still on her lips from the joy of experiencing something so otherworldly.

“We’ll be late if you don’t get changed,” he said suddenly, rising from the armchair. “There’s an evening gown laid out.”

“I’ll hurry,” she answered, starting on her dress. The heavy fabric was dragged down by the snow gathered in its folds and her skin, already cold, broke out in goosebumps as the icy material slid over her, pooling around her feet.

The dress on the bed was a deep red, suitable for evening wear. If she knew anything about Doflamingo’s preferences, the cut wouldn’t make it suitable for anything except possibly a brothel, but she’d make do. Body language still said a lot.

She let her hands travel over her skin, enjoying the last vestiges of cold as shivers raced over her, crawling up her spine and triggering those same nerves as his touch did.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” he murmured in her ear, his grip on her hip almost painful.

“Oh, I did,” she breathed, leaning into his touch. “Very much.”

His hands were burning against her chilled skin, leaving blazing paths in their wake. His kiss rendered her helpless, his heated lips cutting through every last thread of self-preservation and defence.

And then his overheated form covered her icy shape, and his warm breath was on her breasts and he bit down on her nipples, his almost frenzied touch caressing and covering as much of her as he could. It was almost as if he tried to dispel the chill with the heat of his passion, as two clever fingers found their way between her icy legs and into her chilled core, making Violet gasp and arch in pleasure as they found a familiar rhythm that always made her blood boil and breath hitch.

Doflamingo’s warm breath ghosted over her clavicle as he left a trail of wet kisses over her bare skin before attaching himself to the junction between shoulder and neck, her head rolling to the side as he bit down.

Her own hands, still cold, made him swear into her neck as they found his cock. The difference in temperature must have done him something as he soon become achingly hard, a drop of pre-cum leaking from the top.

With a growl, he withdrew those magical fingers from her increasing heat and with a too quick movement, she was laying on her stomach and then his hands drew her hips up and she didn’t have time to brace before he sank into her, his cock burning inside her. The pace he set stoked the fire inside her, her breasts pressed into the mattress, into the beautiful red dress, by his excruciating pace. Violet could do nothing else than grip the sheets in numb hands, feeling the brutal pace as he pounded into her.

And then he shifted, never letting up the punishing pace, but giving her enough space to reach her clit. Her back started to arch as tingles of tension started to spread across her back and down her legs, her muscles tensing up. The combination of her cold fingers on her overheated clit, his balls slapping against her cunt, was enough to take her over the edge.

When he followed her with a stutter and a half-swallowed groan, the last vestiges of bone-numbing cold had evaporated, leaving Violet a panting and steaming mess.


End file.
